Face to Face
by Deb3
Summary: Calleigh had never been so furious in her life. At that moment, she felt she could have literally killed Tim Speedle.


Title: Face to Face

Pairing: H/C

Summary: Calleigh had never been so furious in her life. At that moment, she felt she literally could have killed Tim Speedle.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: If I owned any of these characters, I might still be watching the show. Oh, and all my stories are based on the ORIGINAL characters and backgrounds created before CBS decided to change all the backgrounds retrospectively.

A/N 1: This is a missing scene fic for Losing Face, the first CSIM episode I ever saw. It is independent of my Fearful Symmetry series and in fact predates it, although I never got around to writing it down because I was unsure of its reception among Speed fans. The scene herein in which Calleigh confronts Speed for his comment to Horatio is referred to in passing in Echoes of the Past, but this story can be read without reading that. It is, however, being written down because a few readers of Echoes had asked about it. Any romantic relationship between H/C is in the future here, but it is no less real for that. This is the relationship that actually struck me on seeing that first episode, the intensity with which she cared for him, more than just as a supervisor. Losing Face, to me, was the essence of the chemistry, the potential for more between them. I don't automatically assign ships when watching TV, in fact never had before this show, so I wasn't looking for that, but it struck me instantly. Watching that episode is what encouraged me to play the connection out further and develop what it obviously could be in my future fics, including Fearful Symmetry et. al.

A/N 2: I apologize for my long absence from ficdom. My muse has been alive, healthy, and plowing on full speed as always, but the rest of RL in 2007 has been extremely difficult, highlighted, or lowlighted, by a serious injury to both of my hands that took months to heal and which has left me with probably permanent sensory nerve damage to four fingers and with motor nerve damage to one. Since I no longer have 100 use of my right hand, I have had to modify somewhat the way I type, so of course, fic fell to the bottom of the priority stack, following work and all that other RL stuff, which itself has been difficult this year even aside from my hands. But I'm back again, and there are future stories, at least three more FS and one non-FS one-shot Christmas story which might not make it up by Christmas, but if not, it will be along at some point after. Title on that one is Jingle Bells, but it is a case fic and far from just Christmas fluff. Thanks to all those who sent notes over these months that they are still reading and enjoying my work. You have brightened many a tough day.

And with no further ado, here is Face to Face, my missing scene fic from Losing Face.

(H/C)

He seemed like a carved monument to loneliness. That was Calleigh's first thought as she and the rest of the team finally entered the room where Al had died such a short time earlier. They had given Megan and Horatio a little bit of time alone, although Calleigh privately doubted that Megan would be any help at all to Horatio. If anyone could reach him right now, she sensed it wouldn't be Megan. Alexx, maybe, but not Megan. Sure enough, when she entered, Horatio and Megan were on opposite sides of the room with Al's body like a barrier between them. Horatio was in his oh-so-familiar stance, hands on hips, but his total stillness was brittle. His face was that of a statue chiseled by a master craftsman in which strength warred with devastation.

He stood so alone. So, so alone. Why had Megan not gone to him? Or, more likely, had he stepped away, as far away as he could get without leaving the room, refusing both the solace and the vulnerability of company? Calleigh prided herself on never crying, not since young childhood, but at that moment, tears flooded her eyes, the borrowed tears that he would not allow himself to shed, and she blinked them back. Like it or not at the moment, they had a job to do.

Megan looked around as the rest of the team tentatively entered. "Okay," she snapped, "let's get to work here. This is a crime scene." Slowly, quietly, they began to work, processing the room. Alexx entered, hesitated between the living and the dead, and then concluded correctly that Horatio would resist any comfort at the moment anyway. She simply said, "I'm sorry, Horatio," with a world of sincerity in the words, and he nodded slightly, then moved away, once again taking refuge in distance, pulling to the farthest extent of the room and working there. Calleigh kept glancing at him – well, more than glancing at him – as she worked, longing to say something, not knowing what to say. What on earth could you say? Nothing would suffice.

So, so alone.

(H/C)

Later, as they were leaving, she walked beside Horatio, still stuck in silence, having discarded at least 100 comments. Why on earth couldn't she say something? She at least walked beside him, although his sun-shielded eyes were straight forward, and she wondered if he was even aware of her presence. Speed had come up on the other side as they left the room. The sunlight assaulted them as they stepped outside. It was warm and living, and Al wasn't. Calleigh wondered if the thought had occurred to Horatio, too, and again tried to think of something, anything to say that would start to let him know how sorry she was.

Speed shook his head slightly. "Top ten ways to get your head blown off," he quipped in his usual sarcastic tone.

Horatio and Calleigh both turned, nailing him with both barrels of a double-bore glare. Calleigh had never been so furious in her life. At that moment, she felt she literally could have killed Tim Speedle. Speed flinched, abruptly realizing with whom he was walking. "Sorry, H," he apologized quickly. "Really. Sorry."

Horatio turned and resumed his walk toward the Hummer without a word, and Calleigh with one final acid glance at Speed quickly followed him, although she still wasn't sure he even knew she was there. She stole a glance at his face. The chisel lines were deeper even than they had been earlier, but he still said nothing, and helpless, neither did she.

(H/C)

Speed was sorting evidence in the lab, wishing that explosions were just a bit more considerate to CSIs, when he felt her enter. So did everyone else, and all heads turned in unison. Calleigh stalked into the lab, seeming about six inches taller and about ten times more deadly than usual. She grabbed his wrist and bodily hauled him out of his chair.

"Oww!!" he objected. She didn't loosen her grip, and he went along with her rather than having his shoulder dislocated. "Where . . ."

"I want to talk to you," she hissed between clenched teeth. She glared at the audience, and all heads immediately returned to their respective analyses, then turned back again to watch the backs of their coworkers as they exited. Calleigh was still all but pulling him, walking faster than he was, in spite of his longer legs. After the two had left, the hum of work slowly resumed, and Eric Delko wondered exactly what was going on and if they would have a vacancy in CSI in the very near future.

Speed tried to keep up with Calleigh, but he had trouble doing it. Where did she find the speed in those short legs? They were going to the gun vault, of course, her turf and also one of the more private locations in CSI. When they got there, she finally released him, and he rubbed the already-bruising fingermarks on his wrist as she slammed the door behind them. Then, she turned to him, and they stood face to face. Speed flinched. Never, ever, in all his time working with her had he seen such venom in Calleigh's flashing eyes. He literally backed a half step at the onslaught, feeling the unfamiliar taste of actual physical fear. He had told himself on the walk down that she wouldn't ever really do anything to him, but now, he honestly wondered.

"How could you say that?" she snapped.

"Say what?"

She took a step forward, and he retreated before her. "You've already forgotten it? This morning, at the crime scene, what you said to Horatio."

The light dawned. "I'm sorry, Calleigh. I just wasn't thinking. I apologized."

"But you said it," she insisted. "Do you even realize what he was feeling just then? His best friend had just been taken out in a body bag, for God's sake! And you make a joke about it!" Her voice was rising. Speed backed another step. This wasn't Calleigh. He had never thought of her as weak, had worked with her long enough to know how much firepower was packed in that deceptively small exterior, but he had never seen her worked up like this. At the moment, he was developing a second fear to go with his first, this one the fear that she would work herself into a stroke or something on the spot in front of him. "How could you say THAT" – she spat the word out like an obscenity – "standing right next to him, and I couldn't even say . . ." Her voice crashed against a wall and stopped in mid sentence, as Speed's back hit a literal wall. He could not retreat any farther. He started to analyze the options for an end run if needed.

Calleigh advanced all the way. He was pinned against the wall, and she was right up against him, actually trembling in rage. He gulped. "Listen to me, Speedle," she hissed, and the quietness was even more frightening than the yelling a minute before. "If you EVER even THINK about saying anything that horrible to Horatio again, I will personally string you up at the end of the range and use you for test fires until your body falls apart from all the holes." She stopped then, but her body was still quivering, and her eyes were still deadly. "And don't lie to yourself and say I wouldn't do it," she finally continued.

"I believe you," he assured her quickly. He did, too. She meant every word of it. At that moment, there wasn't even a thought of a joking or sarcastic reply in Tim Speedle's head. "I'll apologize again," he offered, willing to do penance if it would help.

"No," she snapped, her voice like a gun shot. "Don't you ever mention that to him again. Just leave him alone." Her voice broke there and dropped almost to a whisper as she repeated, almost to herself. "Leave him alone." They stood like that for another minute, Speed afraid to move, Calleigh seemingly in another world now, but she looked no less dangerous for that. Finally, she stepped away, releasing him. "Get out," she said softly.

He took an uncertain step forward. Her back was turned to him now as she studied the arsenal on the wall, but he knew she wasn't seeing it. The whole room stood between them. "Calleigh?"

"Get. Out," she hissed again with ferocious intensity. He turned and left the gun vault, still wondering at that whole scene, wondering at the fury and emotion that had possessed her, wondering if he really had heard her voice thicken slightly and almost break there right at the end. But no, he had to be imagining that last part, at least. Calleigh never cried.

(H/C)

She stood there in the gun vault for an eternity, it seemed. When she finally left and walked through the lab, Speed was working diligently, although he gave a nervous glance in her direction. She headed up the stairs and knocked lightly on the closed door, waiting for permission to enter.

He sat behind his desk, shoulders slumped for once, eyes downcast. So, so alone. Her heart broke for him. "Horatio, I am so sorry about your friend," she said simply. "I know that doesn't really help, but I am sorry."

He raised his head, and just for a moment, their eyes met. "Thank you, Calleigh," he replied.

She stepped forward and tentatively reached out and touched his forearm lightly, and to her surprise he didn't pull back. For a moment, her hand rested there, hoping he would feel all the sympathy her words could not state. Then, she released him and turned, heading back to work. Her ears were still focused behind her, though, and they caught the almost-whispered voice. "Thank you."


End file.
